


Groundhog Day

by ShippingLikeAPackage



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Frustrated Newt, Groundhog Day, M/M, Poor kid has to repeat the day, cute newt/sonya, thomesa besties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-13 02:45:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14740562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShippingLikeAPackage/pseuds/ShippingLikeAPackage
Summary: Newt had heard the stories, knew them like the back of his hand: everybody has a soulmate in this world, one person made just for them, blah, blah, blah. Their initials were inscribed on everybody’s chest, just to the left of the sternum, directly over the heart. That he was fine with.The problem for him, personally, lay within the other condition: that if you came within close proximity of your soulmate, but failed to meet them, you would have to relive the day until you succeeded. Which, in theory, seems like a good idea, but that's because most people didn't fuck up this badly.





	1. Chapter 1

            Newt groaned painfully when his screeching alarm pierced his eardrums, dejectedly swiping the phone off of its charger beside him and illuminating the screen.

**6:30**

**Friday, February 02**

 

… again.

 

            “For christ’s sake,” the blonde boy muttered, letting the device fall onto the sheets beside him. He’d heard the stories, knew them like the back of his hand: everybody has a soulmate in this world, one person made just for them, blah, blah, blah. Their initials were inscribed on everybody’s chest, just to the left of the sternum, directly over the heart. That he was fine with. The problem for him lay within the _other_ condition, the one he used to disbelieve and had written off as an old-wives-tale: that if you came within close proximity of your soulmate, but failed to meet them, you would have to relive the day until you succeeded.

            How he wished he had been right.

            It was a nice idea, in theory. If you threw your shot with the person who would ultimately become the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, the world gave you another chance. It was just that most people didn’t tend to fuck it up this badly, seeing as this was Newt’s _seventh_ time reliving this goddamn day.

            Rolling off the edge of the bed, the lanky boy let out a long and frustrated sigh, scooping up a t-shirt and jeans that were lying in a heap on his floor. Raising them to his nose, Newt gave them a quick sniff- eh, good enough for him. The first few recycles of the day, he’d dressed to the nines, wanting to dazzle his soulmate when they finally met. But now, he had reached the point of not caring- hell, the boy didn’t even give a flying hoot _who_ his soulmate was anymore. He’d take _anyone_ just to have it be a _new day_.

            “Newt!! We’re gonna be late for school!”

            Huffing to himself, the boy ran his fingers through his hair, not even bothering to brush it as he hustled down the stairs to keep from making his impatient younger sister wait any longer. He stepped into the kitchen, where she sat on a barstool with her golden hair cascading down her back, waiting. “Morning, Sonya,” he mumbled gravelly, grogginess still laying its claim on his vocal chords. The boy snatched up the box of Frosted Flakes from the counter and stuffed his hand inside, sloppily grabbing a handful and shoveling it into his mouth as he crossed over to stand behind her. Normally Newt was a proper boy, well-mannered, dressed pretty nice, made himself presentable. But ceaseless repetition with no escape changed people.

            “You’re gross,” the 14-year old jested, scrunching her nose as Newt’s fingers dove into her hair. He began to section it apart, snickering to himself.

            “Well if I’m so gross, why do you make _me_ braid your hair every day?”

“Shut up,” was all she said, tilting her head back a little and sticking her tongue out at him. The older boy smirked to himself, satisfied with his win. If there was anything that could still make him smile, every day, no matter how many times he relived it, it was Sonya.

After a few minutes he held out his hand to receive the ponytail holder from her, before using it to tie off the braid he’d crafted from her hair. Newt gave it the smallest of playful tugs, just hard enough to elicit an annoyed “hey!” from the girl, before grinning and grabbing his backpack off of the table.

“Just making sure it was secure enough,” the boy lied, passing his sister her school books as well. The two wished their parents off, hopping into Newt’s car and he driving them both to West Chambington school for Knowledge Development; or WCKD high, as everyone called it, since the real name was quite the mouthful. He waved at his sister once they went their separate ways, he to his classes and she to hers. Newt’s face fell as soon as she was out of sight, utter dread seeping into his bones once more. He raised a hand to his chest absentmindedly and skimmed his fingertips across the fabric, hoping that whoever the hell **TM** was would finally show their face today.

School was the worst part of the day, every cycle through of it. I mean, he didn’t come into contact with anyone new here, he’d been attending WCKD high for three years now, for pete’s sake. Every day was the same. Homeroom. Two classes, English and Chemistry. Sonya would text him she was getting a ride home from Harriet. Then lunch, where he’d eat the same turkey and cheese sandwich. Minho would complain about what events the track coach put him in for their upcoming meet, and ask Newt to copy last night’s History homework, since he forgot to do it. He’d oblige, then they’d walk to History together. It was like clockwork—no, it _was_ clockwork, because Newt was trapped in the eternal hell that was February second.

Crossing into his Statistics class- the final block of the day, Newt pinched the bridge of his nose, internally searching for the motivation to make it through just one more lecture. He slumped down lazily into his seat, near the back-right corner of the room. By this point he knew all of today’s lectures by heart, never wanting to even _see_ the words ‘Bivariate Relationships’ ever again.

“Alright class,” Newt’s gruff teacher began, in the same exact tone and voice he did yesterday. And the day before. And the day before. “Today we’re going to be talking about section 3.4- Bivariate Relationships. When your dependent variable _y_ appears to have a correlation to the independent variable _x,_ you…”

Newt had stopped listening after the first word, doodling a giraffe in the margins of his notebook. He glanced down at his watch, before mumbling “and three… two… one-”

The door burst open, the same dumb lost kid interrupting with “Uh… is this Ms. Paige’s class?”, right on schedule.

“Do I look like a Ms. Paige to you?” Newt mouthed, mimicking the conversation as his teacher spoke those exact words.

“No sir! Sorry!” The boy’s voice came again, and Newt heard the door shutting again as he scampered away in embarrassment. He hadn’t even looked up. In all honesty he felt pity for the kid: it was bad enough to have that happen to you once. But imagine the embarrassment of seven times in a row, and counting? Of course, Newt was the only one repeating the day, but still.

            Finally, after a painfully long 70 minutes, the sweet, sweet sound of the dismissal bell cut through the air. Newt shoved his notebook (in which he had taken no real notes the entire class in) into his backpack, swinging it over one shoulder as the class made a mass exodus from the room. “Have a good one, Mr. Spilker,” Newt mentioned out of courtesy as he left the classroom as well, digging through his pocket to produce his car key and drive himself to the park.

            That just _had_ to be where his soulmate was. He remembered the first time it was February 02, he had decided to go to the park to walk on the nature trails, since he wasn’t responsible for driving Sonya home. What a stupid mistake, because now he was stuck going to the dumb park every dumb day to try and find his dumb soulmate.

            Throwing his vehicle into **P** once he’d reached the lot, Newt stepped out of the car and let out an anxious sigh- as much as he told himself he didn’t care anymore, a small part of him still did. Still wanted to meet his soulmate once and for all, for this to be the first day of the rest of his life. The exhale was visible in the crisp winter air, making the blonde boy wrap his red scarf over his nose as well. His deep brown eyes instinctively scanned the area, looking for someone- _anyone_ \- new. He’d already talked to just about everyone over the course of his previous run-throughs of the day, none of which with the initials TM. Hence why he was here, again.

            The boy crossed over to one of the picnic tables just off the path, a little early for his usual arrival, so he didn’t have to be on guard just yet. One by one, his new acquaintances started appearing: the trio of girls taking photos for their social media. He should’ve known that one from the beginning, he was never that type of person. The boy reading with his fingers wrapped around a warm drink- that was a disappointing one when he learned his name was Aris, not something that started with T. The young man a few years older than he, pushing a little girl on the swings (Newt soon found out that was his _daughter_ , so you can only guess how well that went). They were all the easy ones to approach, which meant, of course, Newt would have a challenge.

            A girl with long red hair was running on the trail, in all athletic dri-fit clothes, a headband, and headphones in her ears. Her phone was strapped to her bicep. Worth a shot, at this point. The female looked like she was in the zone of her workout, nimbly weaving around the three instagram girls without seeming to even put second thought into it. She was running towards Newt, and would be running PAST Newt very soon if he didn’t do something.

            So, in a panic, the blonde boy stuck out his foot.

            Not having enough time to react, she fell right into his trap. Literally. He tripped the poor girl. “Sorry!!” Newt clambered to his feet, honestly apologetic for actually making her fall. Desperate times called for desperate measures, though. Maybe this would just be something the two of them looked back on one day, laughing and telling their kids about together. “My name’s Newt!!” He spoke in a rushed voice, a bit too eagerly as she stood on her own, brushing the ice off of her pants as she looked at the boy in irritation.

            “Alex,” she breathed, before taking off again, not allowing the conversation to go any further.

            Newt plopped back down on the rickety wood of the picnic table, defeat washing over his features. “Really?!” He muttered to himself, letting his head fall into his hands. He hadn’t been at the park long that first day- the cold had gotten too much for him and he’d gone home after about 20 minutes. Which meant his window of opportunity would be closing soon.

            The boy jumped to his feet and saw some guy walking to his car, having just gotten off the woodsy trail. “Hey!” He called out desperately, waving like a lunatic as he ran towards the other person. “Hey, you, I-!”

            The man drove off.

            The blonde boy kicked a rock, letting out a low growl in frustration. He didn’t care if anyone saw, they’d all freaking forget it when the day repeated anyways.

            Emitting a disheartened sigh, Newt slumped into his driver’s seat, stuffing the key into the ignition more aggressively than he needed to. “Fuck you, TM,” he spat to the empty car, heading home for the evening where he knew he wouldn’t meet anyone, meaning tomorrow would be glorious day eight of it being Friday, the second.


	2. Chapter 2

_Beeeeeep, beeeep, beeee- THWAP_.

            Newt smacked his phone to shut it up, not even bothering to check it. He knew. He knew what it would say- February fucking second.

            It hadn’t felt like he’d slept at all, and maybe he hadn’t. Newt was reaching the point where he wondered if he even _had_ a soulmate, or if the world was just playing some cruel trick on him. Maybe today was the day his soulmate died, and since he hasn’t met them, he’d just continue to live today for all of eternity-

            No. He had to stop thinking like that. Today was the day, this would be the last day…

            “Please,” the boy whispered to himself, eyes shutting as his exhaustion seized hold of him once more. He tried to imagine happy thoughts, to boost his morale. Warm brown eyes captivated the forefront of his mind, but they weren’t his own. He imagined himself laughing, holding the hand of his soulmate and looking over at them, but the picture was as if his mind glitched, as he couldn’t imagine _what_ the other person looked like. He was holding hands with nothingness. He had nothing.

            “NEWTON ISSAC ROSS!!”

            The screaming into his ear woke the boy up real quick, shooting up into a sitting position and displacing the sheets around him. “WHO WHA-” The boy shouted back in a panic, breaths ripping in and out of his lungs at a spectacular rate as his pulse soared. Frantically looking around, his eyes were quick to land on a very-unamused looking Sonya, whose hair was up in a messy bun and hands were on her hips, backpack already hanging from her shoulders.

            “Are you not even dressed yet?! It’s like 7:10!” She huffed in his direction, before rolling her eyes and leaving the boy’s bedroom. “If you’re not by the door by 7:15 I’m telling mom it’s your fault we’re getting tardies!”

            Newt scrambled to get out of bed, his ankle snagging in the sheets and making him fall to the floor with a loud _thump_. “Shit, shit, fuck, shit, God dammit, shit,” the blonde muttered to himself as he haphazardly stripped and pulled on the first clothes he could find- not even bothering to give them the sniff check. Snagging his cell and stuffing it in his back pocket, the boy ran down the stairs, skimming his hand along the railing to ensure his bad leg didn’t pick _now_ to give out on him. He hooked his palm around the decorative bottom of the handrail, using his momentum to throw him around the corner and launch him towards the front door, swiftly scooping up his backpack along the way.

He found Sonya waiting for him there, an eyebrow raised as her brother nearly crashed into her. “I’m… impressed,” she admitted, pulling out her phone to check the time. “You’re three minutes earlier than your deadline.”

They called out their goodbyes to their parents, the biting cold outside sucking a long breath out of Newt that he didn’t know he’d been holding. He ran a hand through his mop of hair, knowing damn well he looked like a bedheaded mess. On the train of thought concerning hair, he glanced up at his sister as they were opening their respective side doors, pressing his lips together in disappointment before a yawn spilled out of his lips. “I’m sorry I didn’t braid your hair today,” he told her honestly, inserting the key and turning the car on, blasting the heat.

“Don’t be,” the younger girl answered, having lost all of the sense of frustration towards him she’d possessed minutes earlier. She could never stay mad at him anyways. “You slept in. Happens to all of us.”

            The corner of his lips quirked up in the tiniest of smiles, Newt throwing the car in reverse and whipping out of their driveway so they could make it to WCKD in time. He pulled up to the front of the school and dropped Sonya off to ensure she wouldn’t be late, before fighting to find parking for himself. After finally finding a spot, Newt glanced at his car’s dashboard clock: **7:28**.

            The rest of the day was hopelessly, unimaginatively, anticlimactic.

            7:30. English class started, a double block of his. Newt fell asleep about 15 minutes in.

            9:55. The bell rang, reminding Newt of his ungodly annoying alarm clock and jostling him awake with a startle. He rubbed his eyes, blinking and taking a deep breath as he stood and dazedly crossed out of the room; into the crowded hallway, getting jostled around in his stupor by the crowds of teens in a hurry to make it to their next classes.

            10:00. Newt stumbled into Chemistry right at the bell, shaking his head in attempt to rid the sleep from himself. It lingered into the background, just enough to make his eyes burn, but not enough to make him actually tired. It was a beautiful purgatory of miserableness, but he managed to stay awake for all of this one.

            11:12. **[From: Pigtailed little shit]**

**[To: Annoying ass brother]**

**hey, just a heads up- I’m hanging out with harriet after school today, she said she can give me a ride, so I’ll see you at home!!**

            11:20. Lunch. Newt dropped his brown paper sack onto the table as he climbed over the bench, dropping his weight right across from Minho, who was livid. “I can’t believe he put me in 100 meter dash!! I’m a distance runner, for fuck’s sake, one of the best on the team! It’s so stupid, why the hell wouldn’t they put someone like, I don’t know, Ben, in it! Instead he’s running MY events!”

                        “Sucks,” Newt simply agreed, stifling another yawn as he dumped his lunch onto the table. Turkey and cheese sandwich and a water bottle. Shocker.

                        “What’s with you?” Minho leaned forward onto his forearms, narrowing his eyes at his best friend. “You look like hell.”

                        Newt glared at the stockier boy, stuffing part of one half the sandwich into his mouth as he was starving from running out the door with no breakfast this morning. “Gee, thanks,” he spoke with his mouth full, before swallowing. “Didn’t sleep well last night.”

                        “I could’ve told you that,” Minho began, taking a bite out of his red apple. “You don’t just have bags, you’ve got suitcases.”

                        “Shut up.” Newt threw his napkin at Minho, who just snickered at the act. “If I fall asleep in History, wake me up.”

                        “Shoot! I forgot about the History homework!!” The dark-haired boy started digging through his backpack, trying to find the worksheet they were given yesterday. “Can I copy yours?? Please???”

            11:55. Lunch ended. Minho and Newt headed to their shared history class together. He honestly had no clue what the conversation was about, he hadn’t been listening.

            12:00. History class began. A class that even on a normal day threatened to put him to sleep, but Minho had gotten awfully trigger-happy with a ruler he’d smack Newt awake with, so every time he drifted off, the blonde was snapped back awake by his friend.

            1:10. The class ended- thank God. If he had to hear their teacher say “King Louie” one more time, he swore he would go insane. Plus, now that he had a nice welt on his left shoulder blade from Minho, Newt was more than ready to have some alone time. Not to mention how exhausted he was- the poor boy’s eyes were drooping shut while walking in the halls even.

            1:15. He all but collapsed into his Statistics seat in the back-right corner, and man was it _so comfortable_ (it was no more comfortable than usual. Newt was just so tired that a bed of needles would’ve been comfortable enough to sleep on). The blonde boy’s forehead connected with the desktop, his hair flopping over his eyes and making it darker-even more tempting for his body to shut down, and it did. He was asleep and letting rhythmic sleepy breaths fall from his lips before the bell had even rung. A few girls that sat near him giggled, but made no attempt to wake him for the class. He even slept through the lost kid asking if this was Ms. Paige’s room and leaving again. Newt was fast asleep all of the lecture- down and out for the count as Mr. Spilker used him as an example, graphing the relationship between hours slept at home ( _x_ ) and amount of class time missed ( _y_ ).

            2:25. A hand clapped Newt on the back, jolting him awake for the umpteenth time today; it was right on his new bruise, causing the lanky boy to yelp on instinct the moment he was conscious. Looking around, he saw the room was empty, school already having been dismissed. The person who’d woken him was the only other one in the room, Mr. Spilker himself.

                        “I’m so sorry, sir,” Newt began, before realizing there was a pink slip stuck to his arm. Peeling it away from his skin, the boy skimmed it, his stomach dropping. A detention slip. After school, Friday, February 02.

                        Today.

                        “Perhaps you wouldn’t mind sticking around for a while to make up what you missed in class today,” Mr. Spilker directed more than he asked, crossing back to the front of the room and patting the desk that was front and center, stating wordlessly that Newt was to sit there instead. He began to erase the whiteboard, writing **3.4- Bivariate Relationships** across the top and swiping the marker under it in a big underline.

                        Newt let out a defeated sigh to himself, rubbing his eyes. Thanks a lot, Mr. Spilker. Now he wouldn’t be able to go to the park, and wouldn’t get to meet his soulmate. Maybe, if he didn’t go though, he wouldn’t come into proximity of his soulmate, so he wouldn’t have a near miss? Did that mean his life could progress again?

                        He doubted it. Which meant he was in for another cold, dreary Feb. 02 again tomorrow.

                        Just bloody fantastic.


	3. Chapter 3

            Thomas sipped on the mug of hot chocolate he’d made himself, staring blankly at the calendar that hung on the fridge. He’d never really been overly romantic, hardly getting crushes on anyone growing up. So he didn’t have any sort of expectations for his soulmate to live up to: but forcing him to relive Friday the second for over a week was not exactly the best start. You’d think, when you saw your soulmate, you’d just _know_ , but Thomas was hopelessly lost. It didn’t help that he had just moved here, either, so his pool of candidates was anything but narrow. Literally just about anyone he passed could be his soulmate. Was he expected to talk to ALL of them? He could easily be on Feb. 02 for a month, if so.

            Shivering as a chill traversed down his spine, the brown-haired boy gripped his mug tighter, wrapping both hands around it to absorb more of its warmth. He glanced out the window: the ground was prickled with patches of last week’s snow, trees barren and casting sinister shadows across the pavement as the sun rose.

            _Shadows,_ Thomas thought to himself, noting that the sky wasn’t very cloudy at all today, meaning the groundhog would see his shadow and declare six more weeks of winter.

            “More like six more weeks of February second,” the boy murmured under his breath, licking some of the residual whipped cream from his upper lip.

            Tipping the mug back, Thomas finished off his drink, rising from his seat and placing the cup upside down on the top rack of the dishwasher. His parents both had already left for work, so Thomas was on his own to ensure he actually got to school. Whistling, the boy crouched over and shoveled a scoop of dog kibble into the bowl on the floor, calling for his dog to come eat. A large, dopey chocolate lab bounded in, almost colliding into Thomas and greeting the teenage boy with a slew of slobbery kisses. “Alright, _Alright,_ Bark!” They’d had the dog since he was little, and back then he’d insisted upon the dog’s name being Bark. And it stuck.

            Thomas ran his fingers through the dog’s fur, which was nearly the same shade exactly as the hair atop his head. You know how they say pets and owners look alike? These two definitely fit that stereotype.

            “Alright bud,” the human stated, almost having to yell over Bark’s loud and obnoxious chowing. “I have to go to school! I’ll be back later buddy!” The dark-haired boy bundled up and slung his backpack over his shoulder, heading out the door and locking it behind him. He stuffed the house key into his jeans’ pocket, already on alert. Soulmate hunting, day 8, began now.

            Turning onto the sidewalk, Thomas gripped his backpack straps, forcing a smile onto his face to appear as approachable as possible. He only lived a few blocks away from his new school: West Chambington school for Knowledge Development. Scanning the streets that were bustling with parents dropping off and kids driving themselves, it was a madhouse. It could be _anyone_ , here. And there were hundreds of kids. The world really expected him to try _everyone_?

            Releasing a small sigh to prepare himself, Thomas squeezed his eyes shut before bursting out into an overtly friendly face. “Hi, I’m Thomas! Hello! Nice to meet you! Hi! I’m new!” He tried to get the attention of at least 10 different people, but they either a.) ignored him, b.) just said hello, or c.) didn’t have names that could be shortened to **NR** , the letters that practically taunted him in the mirror every morning.

            Kids had begun to disperse, and Thomas picked up on the social cue that the bell would probably be ringing soon. The first time he’d lived through today, Thomas panicked and had to dive into his backpack to find his schedule, but by now, he knew where all his classes were. Even though technically he hadn’t gone to them yet.

            “Hey, excuse me,” he tapped a girl with short dark hair on the shoulder, who wore a maroon sweater that was distressed with frayed rips across her shoulder and sides. “I’m Thomas, I’m new here. Can you help me find room B16?” he knew damn well where room B16 was. But he had to take every opportunity he could to talk to someone new.

            The girl smiled, almost knowingly, which confused Thomas. “You’re cute,” was the first thing she said to him, before laughing to herself. “I’m Brenda. Follow me.”

            Not NR. Thomas let out a small exhale, not realizing he hadn’t moved from his spot.

            Brenda looked back at him from the end of the hall, raising her eyebrows. “Well? Unless you WANT to stay out here and get a tardy?”

            The boy hustled to catch up to her, shaking his head slightly. “Sorry,” he breathed, “I zoned out. Thanks, again, for helping me.”

            “B16 is Mr. Jorge’s class.” Again, information he already knew, but wasn’t supposed to yet, so he just nodded as she looked back at him. “New student in the middle of winter. I’m sure you’ll have got him curious.” She looked forward again, a smile spreading onto her lips. “And me too.”

            Brenda dropped him off at the class, waving goodbye and saying she’d find him later. It was nice, at least, to have a friend, even if she’d forget him come tomorrow if he failed again.

            He spent all day studying his classmates, trying to feel something for one of them. Any of them. At the beginning of each class, he was introduced in the front once the teachers got wind he was new, so why hadn’t anyone put two and two together yet? Why had no one come up to him after one of his classes and been like “Hey! You said you were Thomas Murphy? That’s the initials of my soulmate, I’m N____ R_____!”

            The worst was when he _did_ meet someone with the first name that began with a N. The hope he felt, only to have it squandered when he woke up the next day and it was still the second. It could really tear apart your morale, and Thomas had gotten to the point where he immediately told himself _no_ anytime he met a Nick or a Natasha or a Nathan or a Nicole. If he went in expecting the worst, he would never be let down.

A part of him still hoped, though, hence why he kept introducing himself to everyone he possibly could.

            It wasn’t like he sat near his soulmate at lunch, either. He’d promised his teachers the first day that he’d visit them each during lunch to catch up on what topics were in the curriculum that he’d missed, so Thomas never even stepped foot into the cafeteria. It _had_ to be someone on the way to school, in the halls, in one of his classes, or on the way home. Had to be, he didn’t go anywhere else.

            He went to physics after lunch, once again, being introduced to the front of the class. Once again, 70 minutes of meeting NOBODY. At 1:10, the bell ending physics rang, and Thomas groaned, because this was his least favorite part of the day. The part where he made an idiot out of himself.

            The 1:15 ringing pierced Thomas’s ears, as he was staring at himself in the mirror on the bathroom wall. “I shouldn’t even bother,” he told himself, but deep down inside he knew he had to anyways. With his luck, it would be one of the kids in there that was his soulmate, so he _had_ to still try.

            Exiting the toilet, the 17-year-old puffed out his chest, and boldly walked through the now-empty hallways. He marched right down the mathematical sciences wing, giving himself a mental pep talk all the while. He stopped right in front of room A5, seized hold of the doorknob, and threw it open, stepping inside.

            “Uh…” Eyes already everywhere but the man he was addressing, Thomas wildly searched the room as he spoke.

            “Is this Ms. Paige’s class?” _No, you dumbass,_ Thomas mentally reprimanded his first-time-living-today self, for asking such a dumb question. But now he did it to buy time scanning the room, not just because he was an idiot. He was making eye contact with everyone who would dare make it back, trying desperately to feel a connection. Somewhere. There was a big burly guy in the left most-row, some of his friends scattered around him and snickering at Thomas’s mistake. Some quirky looking kids near the front who looked at him with either disgust or pity, there was no in between. A blonde kid sleeping in the back-right corner. A few girls sat around him, giggling- whether that was from Thomas or the fact the guy was passed out, he couldn’t tell.

And that was all he had time for, in the half-second before Mr. Spilker’s accusatory voice dominated his thoughts once more. “Do I look like a Ms. Paige to you?”

Thomas finally looked at him, admiring his stupid, crooked nose. He really didn’t like Mr. Spilker, just based on these short interactions every day when Thomas would ask. He pitied the kids who had him for 70 minutes. “No sir. Sorry.”

The brown-haired boy exited the room, the door slamming shut behind him. Thank God that was over. He hiked his backpack up higher onto his shoulder, heading across the whole school to Ms. Paige’s room for psychology. How the hell he’d managed to mess that up so badly the first day, he’d never know. Entering the correct class now, the blonde woman in front smiled at his arrival, gesturing to the boy for the class. “This is Thomas Murphy, a new student. Please make him feel welcome here.”

Just like she said every day when he walked in. And Thomas would cross the room to sit in the only open seat left, in the front row, sharing a table with a girl with dark hair. She was probably the person he was closest to here, even though every day she met him for the first time all over again. In Thomas’s mind, he’d already known her for more than a week.

“Welcome to WCKD,” she said, with the same slightly-crooked and kind smile that she wore every day after welcoming him. Sometimes he’d just wished she was his soulmate; he felt so open around her. He knew she’d grow to be a great friend of his, whenever he _did_ finally get past today. “I’m Teresa.”

_I know,_ he said to himself, a small amused laugh bubbling out from his lips as he shook her hand. “I’m Thomas,” the boy shrugged, opening up his notebook as Ms. Paige began to teach again. “But you already knew that.”


	4. Chapter 4

            If something could go wrong, for Newt, it did.

            He put his jeans on backwards. His backpack spilled out all of its contents when he went to grab it. He tripped on the stairs. When he went to grab himself cereal, he knocked over the box and sent it all skittering across the kitchen floor. The broom broke when he was trying to clean it up, meaning he had to pick the tiny pieces up by hand. When he went to make Sonya’s braid, her hair tie snapped. He slipped on the ice on their front porch. His car stalled, leaving them in icy silence for a minute or two before he finally got the engine to rev to life.

            Today was just not his day. He hated this run-through the most of all eight: well, _nine,_ now. And it wasn’t even 7:30 in the morning yet.

            Newt dropped Sonya off at the door, wanting to eradicate her from his bad karma as soon as possible for her own sake. And it was a good thing that he did- the chap didn’t find parking anywhere. What was it, everybody-and-their-mother-park-in-the-student-lot-day? Letting out a frustrated huff, Newt drove across the street, having to park in front of a coffee/donut chain location and walk back over to WCKD, already 6 minutes late to English and counting.

            The blonde walked to the attendance office and got a whole lotta lip from the woman working there, but eventually managed to scrounge up a late pass so he wouldn’t get the same lecture from Mrs. Lana. When he _did_ make it to English, he dropped down in his seat only for it to break a little, making an ungodly irritating squeak anytime he so much as twitched a muscle. And this class was a double, so 140 minutes of squeaky hell for him.

            An annoyed groan left his lips, the boy letting his forehead smack the palm of his hand as he contemplated how today could’ve already gone so _wrong_.

            In Chemistry, Newt accidentally spilled corrosive fluids on himself during their lab, and had to stand under the chemical shower, utterly soaking himself. The boy’s clothes grew three shades darker and clung to his form, dripping from supersaturation. His long gold hair looked more of a sandy brown now, plastered to his cheeks in little unattractive tendrils. Shaking his head like a dog, Newt pushed the mop of a mess back out of his face, groaning as he gripped the shirt pressed to his abdomen and wrung it out. “Great,” he murmured, dark eyelashes dotted with droplets of residual water that threatened to splash down onto his cheeks. Deep down he knew it wouldn’t matter, because everyone would forget it come tomorrow anyways, but Newt was still pissed on principle.

            He was tossed a towel, which he wrapped around himself, praying that he’d dry off before he had to go out into the sub-freezing weather when he left later.

            At lunch, Minho couldn’t help but snicker once Newt was in view. “… The hell happened to you? Go for a swim?”

            “Slim it,” Newt muttered, shaking the towel on his hair once more, making it look even more of a mess than it already had. Some already-dry pieces stuck straight up, while the larger still-wet pieces stuck to his head firmly. “Give me your track clothes.”

            Minho crossed his arms at Newt’s demand, more amused than anything else. “Pardon?”

            “Your track clothes,” the blonde stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Give me them.”

            Minutes later, Minho and Newt had both left the cafeteria, made a pit stop at Minho’s locker to grab his bag for track, and were in the mens’ room. The dark-haired boy leaned against the sink, his arms over his chest as Newt’s soaked clothes were flung over the stall he was in as he changed.

            “Jesus, Minho,” Newt muttered, before kicking the door open and emerging in Minho’s clothes. They looked ridiculous on him; about two sizes too big thanks to Minho’s muscular build. The shirt was a slate gray, the word **RUNNER.** emblazoned across the front of it. The pants were black sweatpants, which Newt had to tie off incredibly tighter than usual to fit around his smaller waist.

            “Pfft,” the stockier boy couldn’t help but choke out, finding it humorous how _small_ Newt looked in his clothes. “At least it’s dry?”

            “Yeah, thank God,” the blonde breathed, as the bell rang to end the lunch period. “C’mon,” Newt began to gather all his soaked clothes, balling them all up in a heap. “Let’s get to History.”

            “Shit!” Minho interjected, grabbing Newt’s forearm. “I forgot to do the homework!! Can I copy yours?! You owe me for my clothes, you know.”

            The blonde closed his eyes, in something like bemusement. He’d almost forgotten about that part of his day. “Yeah,” he exhaled, heaving his backpack up onto his shoulder. “You can copy it.”

            If he thought History was going to go any better than the rest of the day had, boy, was he wrong. The teacher was none too happy with he and Minho chit chatting under their breaths, and made them sit across the room for the rest of class for being disruptive. And in a lecture he’d already had to bear over and over eight times, Minho had been the only thing keeping him sane. Today was just not his day- no, February 02 just wasn’t his day. But this cycle of it, specifically.

            Newt opened his locker after class was over, unloading everything he needed to take home with him and shoving it haphazardly into his bookbag. His old clothes were stuffed in a more-front zipper section, and threatened to seep dampness back to his notebooks. What was one more misfortune today, anyways? He was beyond giving a shit, because they’d just be all fine and dandy again come tomorrow, when he’d have to live today again. The boy fell forward slightly, his forehead bumping into and resting on the top of his locker in defeat as the halls emptied out. Newt shut his eyes, groaning to himself, but the noise was drowned out by the screaming bell denoting that the final class block was now in session. Lifting his head and taking a deep breath in, the blonde boy made the executive decision that he wasn’t going to statistics today- his blood was boiling enough from everything else. He didn’t need Mr. Spilker’s nasally voice talking about _bivariate relationships_ again to push him over the edge. Newt scooped up his backpack and swung it over one shoulder, slamming the locker in defeat. Nothing, NOTHING good had happened thus far today. This Groundhog Day was easily the worst of them all. He stood there for a moment, lingering alone in the hallway, when movement came from his right.

            Snapping his head over to look instinctively, Newt made brief eye contact with the culprit, who must’ve also been a little caught off guard that there was someone else in the hallway.

            He recognized him. Immediately. The same medium-olive green long-sleeved shirt, the same dark khaki pants, the same black and white skate shoes that he wore every Feb. 02. It was that stupid kid, on his way to Mr. Spilker’s to ask him if he was Ms. Paige, no doubt. Newt felt a pang of pity as the boy met his eyes for a fleeting moment before avoiding them altogether, ducking his head down. Just because he personally had been having a bad day, didn’t mean he had to leave this kid to make a fool of himself, too. Newt began towards the slightly-shorter boy to meet him halfway, awkwardly calling out to him. “’Ello, mate. You lost?”

            Thomas jumped a little, not having been expecting the lone student to actually talk to him. He relaxed almost immediately, though, gripping one of the straps of his backpack absentmindedly. The boy looked familiar… But then again, so did everyone when you literally see the same exact people every day for multiple on end. Thomas didn’t remember him here yesterday, but in reality, this was great fortune for him- getting to talk to someone new and not having to burst into Spilker’s class. A win-win. “Uh, yeah, actually,” the brunet confessed, a truthfully sheepish smile spreading onto his lips. Why was he so genuinely embarrassed this time? It’s not like he hadn’t made the same mistake eightfold so far. Yet, the faintest of color creeped to his cheeks anyway.

            “Well it’s nothing to ashamed of,” Newt spoke playfully, a shrug rolling off of his shoulders and a smile curling on his lips. An actual smile, not a forced one. It was nice to feel one of those at least once today. “Where are you headed?”

            The newer boy tilted his head down, breaking the eye contact and hiding the shy grin that captivated his facial features when Newt had consoled him. Looking back up at the other now, Thomas rocked back on his heels slightly. “Ms. Paige’s, Psychology.”

            Throughout the entire time they’d been speaking, the two boys stood face-to-face, mirroring each other’s posture, the tips of their shoes inches apart. Perhaps an uncomfortably small distance for two strangers, but oddly enough, neither of them seemed to mind.

            “Well you’re just about as far from there as you can be, my friend. I’ll walk you there, I’m headed that way too.” Newt accidentally brushed shoulders with the poor confused sap as he started in the opposite direction Thomas had been, and the brief contact initiated a lightheaded feeling within the blonde. With a puzzled look on his face, Newt shook it off, dismissing and forgetting about it almost immediately as he glanced back at the other boy, who hadn’t moved. “Well?” A small teasing grin laced up onto his lips, “you’re not gonna make me walk all by myself, are you?”

Thomas snapped out of his own daze and hustled to catch up to Newt. He liked the blonde boy already- just his mannerisms, the way he spoke, all of the tiniest details: for some reason, they just seemed to radiate warmth, and Thomas felt comfortable with that.

            The younger male slowed to walk right next to his new acquaintance, looking over at him as he introduced himself. “I’m Thomas, by the way. I’m new.”

            Newt chuckled, running a hand through his stringy, still-somewhat-wet hair and pushing it back away from his face. Some rebellious strands flopped back down to his cheeks immediately anyways, but he didn’t bother to fix them. He’d always liked the name Thomas growing up- just something inside of him had always found it associated with happy thoughts. “Name’s Newt,” he said plainly, stealing a glance over at the new kid. He had a dumb essence about him- going the wrong way to class, not following Newt when he practically said ‘follow me’, and just that stupid smile. Newt found it endearing; it was cute.

            “Well that’s a very _Neat_ name,” The brown-haired boy smiled brightly, skewing his pronunciation so the word ‘neat’ sounded similar to ‘newt’.

            _And stupid jokes,_ Newt thought to himself, but was unable to keep from bubbling out a giggle at Thomas nonetheless. He could’ve sworn the other’s prideful grin could light up even the darkest of nights. “That…” the blonde raised his eyebrows, readjusting his grip on the one lone strap as he shoved his free hand into his pocket. “… Was _so_ lame, I just hope you know that.”

            Thomas snickered, covering his mouth as he did so. “I do.”

            “So, what’s your deal?” Newt asked, his curiosity piqued. He wanted to know more about Thomas, a hunger for knowledge- for reasons he wasn’t sure of.

            “My deal?”

            “Yeah,” the blonde continued, shrugging a little. “What are you interested in?”

            Thomas pursed his lips, trying to scrounge up something about himself. “Well, I really love astronomy. Constellations and stuff, how they’re all millions of billions of miles away and yet we can see them every night. It fascinates me.” He was probably oversharing, but he couldn’t help it. Conversation just came so easily around Newt, and Thomas was almost disappointed when they then approached what he knew to be Ms. Paige’s door. “Well,” the brunet breathed, stopping as he looked up at the blonde.

            “This is it,” Newt completed for him, a little perplexed as to why it sounded like Thomas knew this was the room before he’d said it was, but merely shrugged it away. He’d been having an off day anyways, or maybe Thomas just recognized the room number or something. “I’ll catch you around, I guess, yeah?” Newt took a step back, looking over his shoulder at the doors to outside.

            The shorter boy’s voice snapped him back. “Where are you going? You mentioned you were headed this way, but I don’t think I ever caught the class.”

            Newt smirked, a hint of mischief glinting in his eyes. “That’s because there is no class. And even if I went, I’d be awfully late now, don’t cha think? I’m skipping.”

            “Can I come?”

            The words were out of Thomas’s mouth before he’d even thought them, and now, he regretted it. Redness made itself at home on his cheeks, embarrassed for having just invited himself into some stranger’s social life and put himself at risk of punishment from the school. But some impulse, deep inside of him, had made him do it.

            Newt was certainly taken aback by the question, a cocky grin seeping up to his face when he saw how timid Thomas looked, though. “Skipping class on your first day, eh? I kinda pegged you as a goody-two-shoes, y’know.”

            The slightly-younger boy scratched the back of his head, already beginning to babble. “Sorry, I don’t know why I said that, I didn’t mean to put that press-”

            “I didn’t say no.” Newt interrupted, a snicker of admiration emitting from his chest. “Come on, you dork. Before we get stopped for not having hall passes.”

            To say that the smile that broke onto Thomas’s face was big would be an incredible understatement. Newt patted the brunet on the back, retrieving his car keys from his pocket and swinging them aimlessly to entertain himself as they exited the school. “My car’s all the way by the buggin’ café across the street, if you’re hungry.”

            “Fun fact: I’ll never say no to a blueberry muffin.” Thomas replied, before Newt swung the keys right in front of his face. “Hey!”

            “Seein’ if you were paying attention,” the taller boy mused, and both of them couldn’t help but laugh.

            “I was the one talking! How would I have not been paying attention?!”

            As he spoke, Newt reached around his back and tapped on the shoulder further from him. Out of instinct, Thomas fell for it and looked.

            “Paying attention, you said?” Newt teased, his voice shaky with laughter that threatened to not allow him to finish.

            “Shut up,” Thomas rolled his eyes, letting out a small playful huff as they crossed the street. The coffee shop was pretty dead, seeing as their big rush times were directly before and after school, so Newt bought the two of them one blueberry and one chocolate chip muffin. Thomas thanked him for paying, and both boys scarfed them down rather ungracefully within the minute it took to walk out to Newt’s car.

            Unlocking it, Newt climbed into the driver’s side, Thomas in to the passenger adjacent to him. “Here,” the blonde boy said, wiping a stray crumb off of his own chin with one hand as he passed the auxiliary cord to Thomas in the other. “Wow me.”

            Thomas scrunched his nose, his exhale visible in the cold interior of the vehicle. He delicately took the cord and plugged it into his phone as Newt turned the key in the ignition. Miraculously, all signs of it ever having stalled this morning were gone, and he didn’t even have a ticket for parking long term in the shopper-parking-only. It was as if his day was making up for lost time on good things happening.

            As Newt reversed out of the spot and turned onto the main road from the lot, Thomas had finally picked a playlist, and the first song’s opening notes were playing. Newt recognized it, and a smile lit up on his face, because it seemed like he and Thomas had similar music tastes. “Ooh. I love Imagine Dragons. You’re off to a good start, Tommy.”

            And that was it. That was when all the warm, fuzzy feelings flooded Thomas, and he felt like he could fly. Felt completely free, all from the moment that nickname left Newt’s lips. The biggest smile spread across his lips, and without a single regret, he began singing along.

            “ _We could be faces in the crowd,_ ” his head was bumping enthusiastically, and he saw Newt’s bobbing the tiniest bit to the beat out of the corner of his eyes. “ _We could be passing in the shadooows,_ ” Thomas was feelin’ it. He didn’t care if Newt was watching, in fact, he almost hoped he was. “ _Loving the risk of being found,_ ” he dramatically turned to Newt, whose eyes were on the road, but was biting his lip in a clear struggle to keep himself from bursting out in laughter over Thomas’s silly antics. He was amused, to say the least. “ _When we’re caught in the headliiights,_ ” drumming the beat on Newt’s dashboard, Thomas squeezed his eyes shut dramatically, and when he opened his mouth to shout the first part of the chorus, his voice wasn’t alone.

            “ _DAAAAANGEROUS,_ ” The two boys yelled together, louder than the music itself. Thomas froze, looking in awe over at Newt. His jaw was slightly slack, not having expected the other boy to join in with his other antics.

            This left Newt to sing the alone, briefly. “ _Your love is always dangerous,_ ” He stole a quick glance at Thomas, just enough to flash a smile and reach out to tip the brunet’s chin up with his fingertips, shutting Thomas’s gaped mouth for him. “ _And now I’m-_ ”

            “ _Looooooost in us,_ ” the younger of the two joined back in, jubilant and over-the-top with his dancing since Newt couldn’t be. He really had a whole performance going on over there on the passenger side, and he didn’t care. Not one bit embarrassed. “ _We’re livin’ in a lyyying truuuuust!_ ”

            Newt pointed a finger gun at Thomas, amping off of the other boy’s excitement but limited in range of dancing he could do as they gasped and nodded their head at the downbeat. “ _I don’t know why, but I guess… It’s got something to do with you._ ” They were both beaming, having the time of their lives as they screamed the lyrics at the top of their lungs. “ _To do with you,_ ” Thomas added, being the second voice, covering his mouth with a feigned surprise face as they continued like that for the rest of the chorus and through the second verse as well, both panting by the time they reached the song’s bridge.

            “ _Tell me, that you love me, tell me, that you love me, tell me, that you love me, tell me, that you love me,_ ” Thomas chanted breathily over and over, elbowing Newt to sing the second part over him.

            “ _Daaaaangerous,_ ” Newt sung much softer now, not yelling like they had been, giving off a much more somber feel as a deep chuckle ripped from his chest. But the lanky boy continued nonetheless, his eyes crinkled at the corners from having such a wide smile, which he covered with one of his hands and kept his gaze glued on the road. Thomas continued the soft chanting, his lips revealing a toothy smile of his own. “ _Your love is always dangerous…_ ”

            “ _Tell me, that you love me,_ ” Thomas finished, Newt looking over at him as they were at a red light. They made eye contact, both smiling like idiots, taking a deep breath in in tandem before they broke out yelling once more.

            “ _I. DON’T. KNOW. WHYYYYY!_ ” the two split once again, layering their parts and miraculously not both picking the same one to sing. It was like they were in sync.

            The song soon finished, both boys gasping for breath as the silence between songs settled throughout the whole car. “Damn,” Newt broke the quiet spell, his chest rising and falling steadily. “Good song,” was all he said, clearing his throat as Fall Out Boy came on next. Both boys hummed, but didn’t have the stamina for an encore, and Newt pulled into his driveway shortly after anyways.

            Thomas blinked, unmoving as Newt got out and threw his backpack over his shoulders without a second thought. “We’re at your house,” the brown-haired boy stated, his head ever-so-slightly cocked to the side.

            _No, we’re at the Queen’s for afternoon tea,_ Newt wanted to remark and be a smartass, but he withheld it and opted for a short snicker instead. “Is that a problem?” He asked, almost challenging Thomas to say it was. “Car’s gonna get cold quick,” Newt mentioned over his shoulder as he started towards the door, a smirk adorning his face.

            The two settled in, Thomas having eased up once more and claiming the couch in the living room as his own.

            Yes, even the cushion Newt sat on.

            “Do you think, if dinosaurs ever did come back, they’d look how we think they do?” The brunet was sprawled out laterally, taking up the entire sofa, with his ankles shoved into Newt’s lap. He was tossing a stress ball up into the air over and over, hardly even paying attention to the movie they’d agreed to watch together: _Jurassic Park_. “I read somewhere that they looked like chickens,” Thomas continued, throwing the ball up again. Newt snatched it out of the air on its descent.

            “You look like a chicken,” he retorted, with a satisfied shit-eating grin. Thomas pouted, making grabby hands at the ball, but Newt held it out of reach still, holding the slightly-younger boy’s attention. “You’re not even watching the movie.”

            “God creates dinosaurs. God destroys dinosaurs. God creates man. Man destroys God. Man creates dinosaurs.” Thomas quoted out of nowhere, and right on cue, the same line came from Ian Malcom in the movie, showing off the brunet’s repertoire of knowledge on the subject, and that he didn’t even need to watch it to follow along.

            As fate would have it, the film was one of Newt’s favorites as well, the blonde pegging the stress ball at Thomas, who yelped, as he finished the quote. “Dinosaurs _eat_ man… Woman inherits the earth.”

             In time, one by one, Newt’s family started to arrive home. Thomas met his younger sister Sonya first, then later his parents, who invited Thomas to stay for dinner. It was weird to introduce someone you just met that day to your whole _family_ , but Newt needed this. He actually thoroughly enjoyed spending time with Thomas, and really had to have a break from the monotony of living the same Feb 02 over and over again. It was like a mini vacation from the cursed date, to say “fuck you” to looking for his soulmate, and just living as freely as he pleased, since he knew tomorrow it would all be forgotten to everyone but himself.

            After dinner, Newt’s family dispersed, his parents to the living room to watch TV and Sonya to her room for her laptop. Newt rinsed his dish before placing it in the dishwasher, holding a hand out to take Thomas’s as well.

            “Thank you so much for dinner,” the shorter boy said honestly, leaning against the island in their kitchen. “And today, actually. I had a lot of fun hanging out with you.”

            “Well, you say that as if it’s over,” Newt mused, throwing a dish towel over his shoulder as he flashed a crooked smile in Thomas’s direction, gingerly picking up the two mugs of hot chocolate he’d brewed in the Keurig when Thomas was taking his sweet old time cleaning up after himself and bringing the dishes over. “Grab your coat, let’s go see these stars you claim to love so much.”

            Thomas smiled for the uncountably-high-number-th time today, accepting the drink and doing as he was told, both of them bundling up and hugging the mugs close to themselves as they crossed out onto Newt’s front porch. The dark-haired boy sat down on the step, and for once, had to motion for Newt to sit down, too. Once the blonde did, Thomas brushed some brown strands away from his eyes, scooting closer to make sure they were seeing the same thing as he outstretched his arm to point to the sky. “That one’s this really rare one. It’s called the Big Dipper.” Thomas grinned deviously, and Newt scoffed, smacking his thigh.

            “I know that, _you_ _Big Dip_ ,” and Thomas couldn’t help but laugh heartily.

            “Okay, okay, okay,” the brunet chuckled, holding up his free hand in mercy. He took a sip from the warm drink, the tip of his nose already pink in the moonlight from the relentless cold. “Here’s one I think you’d like. You see those four stars, right near the Big Dipper, they kinda make up a lopsided box?”

            Newt’s eyes followed Thomas’s finger as he pointed it out, squinting a little in concentration. He was leaning so close, to see, that his breath and Thomas’s visibly collided in the space in front of them before dissipating into the night. “Yeah, I see them.”

            “Follow my finger. _This_ corner connects to that star over there, and then that one, snaking all the way around through all of those.” He made a slow sweeping motion with his forefinger, tracing the constellation out. “It’s called _Draco_. A Greek constellation, in honor of the dragon that protects Zeus and Hera’s golden apple tree.”

            “Why do you think I’d like it?” Newt inquired, curious as to why he’d said so.

            Thomas shrugged, never taking his eyes off of the sky, which reflected in them. “You seem like the kind of person who would like dragons.”

            “Well that’s because dragons are fucking badass,” Newt replied, confirming Thomas’s speculation as the blonde drank some of his hot cocoa. “What’s that bright star over there?” He pointed to one that was almost blindingly outshining the others, concentration etched on his features as the boy tried to soak in all the new information.

            “That’s Sirius,” Thomas replied, a fond smile on his face. “Used to be my favorite as a kid.”

            “Why?”  Newt looked over at the other male, only then realizing how close their faces were. Thomas didn’t even notice, just laughed.

            “Because its bright and easy to find. I was a very complex child, y’know. A deep thinker.”

            They sat out there for a whole hour, talking about the stupidest of things. Newt’s favorite color was lavender. Thomas’s was red. Newt’s favorite animal was giraffes. Thomas’s was dogs. Newt used all his apps with night mode on, Thomas’s were all blindingly bright day mode. They were both night owls. Thomas’s favorite meal of the day was breakfast. Newt’s was dinner.

            Twirling the empty mug between his fingers, Thomas stared at the ground. He tapped his toes quietly, just to keep them moving and generating heat, as most of his digits had all grown numb thanks to the weather. He didn’t want to break the comfortable silence, but knew he had to. “I should get home soon,” the boy mentioned, the disappointment clear in his voice.

            Newt nodded solemnly, both of them expecting the other to never remember this time they shared together. Both expecting to have to wake up and do it all again tomorrow, as they had been for what seemed like forever, now.

            “I’ll drive you.”

            The car ride back was too short for their liking, silent in dread of losing this moment. Of being forgotten. Of forgetting themselves.

            “This is it,” Thomas mumbled, pointing to a house on the right as Newt rolled the car to a stop. “Thanks, again, Newt. For… Letting me ditch with you. I really enjoyed spending time together today.”

            “I really enjoyed it too,” Newt replied, smiling sadly, and then muttering under his breath. “I’m gonna miss you tomorrow,” he said, knowing this would be stripped from him the moment the clock struck midnight.

            Thomas knit his eyebrows, looking over at the blonde. “What was that?”

            “Oh!” Newt reeled back a little, not having expected Thomas to have heard him. “I… I was asking you for your number.” Real smooth, Newt. Nice coverup.

            Thomas smiled warmly, making Newt’s chest feel like jelly. “Of course,” he agreed, taking Newt’s phone from the aux and opening the contacts, creating a new one for himself. “Text me later so I know it’s you,” the shorter boy requested, before opening the passenger door and stepping out. “Goodnight, Newt.”

            “’Night, Tommy.” He said before the door was shut, Thomas disappearing into his house and probably out of Newt’s life forever. Or at least until statistics tomorrow, when he’d ask if he was in the right room.

            Newt stared at his phone, still open on Thomas’s contact. He picked it up and stared at it for a moment, smiling fondly.

**Tommy :)**

            How he wished he could just keep this, and not wake up with it gone tomorrow. Tomorrow, February 02.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The :) after Thomas's contact was supposed to be a star emoji, to represent his love of the stars. However, AO3 would't allow it nor the last sentence of the chapter be published with it there, so I had to change it!


	5. Chapter 5

_Not again._

            Newt’s eyes fluttered open, the weight of slumber being lifted from his chest. His phone must’ve died at some point during the night, because his alarm for school had never gone off. Based on the fact Sonya hadn’t whacked him awake with a pillow yet, his circadian rhythm must’ve been pretty in-check, and he couldn’t have woken up _too_ late. Although it was strange that the device had never died any of the other mornings, the boy was too hazy from sleep to question it.

            Allowing a yawn to sprawl out from between his lips, the boy sat up, staring at his window. For some reason, a sense of hope emanated from deep within him, warm feelings spreading like spiderwebs through his nerves. Today would be a good day. He promised himself that much.

            Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, Newt pocketed his cell without even looking at it, making a mental note to himself to pack a charger and plug it in during English. It was a good thing it was dead. Newt was tired of seeing **Feb. 02** glaring at him first thing in the morning anyways, mocking him and making a point of his failures. He didn’t need to ruin his rare good feelings with that reminder quite yet.

            The blonde let out a small sigh as he rummaged through his dresser, picking himself a solid burgundy-colored shirt and slipping it over the white tee he slept in, not bothering to button the front shut as he searched for pants. Newt didn’t know why he was even bothering: he hadn’t actually given a shit about what he wore in over a week, now. But today, his gut compelled him to. Perhaps it was the good mood; he felt like actually looking like a proper human today. Pulling out a pair of beige, form-fitting corduroy pants, Newt slinked his long legs into them, snaking a black belt through the loops to keep them from sagging. The teen ran a hand through his hair and just _knew_ it was a mess, so he threw a black beanie atop the back of his head to conceal the bedhead and complete the look.

After dressing himself, the boy bounced down the stairs, his lengthy hair in front flopping in his face rhythmically with each step. Yesterday had started out awful and ended fantastic- Newt really hoped today wasn’t the opposite.

Careful as to not spill again like he had the day before, the male very gingerly and gracefully grabbed the cereal box, transferring it to the island in the kitchen before retrieving a bowl and spoon for himself. Sonya sat on the same barstool she had every day, a half-eaten bagel in one hand and her phone in the other, scrolling away. “Good morning, Sun,” Newt spoke as he made himself breakfast, a small smile breaking onto his face and staying there. He shoved a spoonful into his mouth, making sure anything he missed dribbled down back into the bowl instead of his outfit as she replied, not even glancing up at him.

“G’morning, lizard.”

Chuckling quietly to himself, Newt rolled his eyes, crossing around the granite countertop and standing behind his little sister, gently twisting out her messy bun and submerging his fingers into her hair without even being asked. The girl leaned back compliantly, taking another bite of the bagel and setting her phone down.

Newt hummed to himself, his mood soaring for no reason. He truly cherished the bonding time he and his sister spent together, and thanked his lucky stars every day that he had her. These moments were unlike any other, perhaps the only part of his day that he didn’t mind repeating.

“So,” he began, a coy smile on his lips as he focused on weaving her golden hair into a neat braid. “Whaddya think? Will the groundhog see his shadow today? Personally, I’ve got my bets on no, but perhaps that’s just because I’m ready for this pissy cold weather to be over.”

Sonya was silent for a moment, as Newt drew in another few strands of hair and tucked them into his creation as well. Her eyebrows were knit together and she’d stopped chewing her bagel, but Newt hadn’t noticed, to entrapped in his task at hand.

“What are you talking about?” The younger girl looked to the side inquisitively, unable to actually look _back_ at him without sacrificing her braid. “Groundhog Day was yesterday. He _DID_ see his shadow, by the way, so your bet’s wrong.”

He was frozen. Stiff. Solid. Unmoving. Not a single muscle so much as twitched, all the color draining from his face. Newt couldn’t hear anything but her words, over and over, the blood rushing to his ears thumping over anything else. Groundhog Day was yesterday. Groundhog Day was yesterday.

_Groundhog Day was yesterday._

His alarm never went off because it’s Saturday. He was feeling at peace, because that damn day was over. Friday, Feb. 02, was _yesterday._

“There, I just sent you an article on it.” She stated matter-of-factly, having no clue the crisis he was going through. His phone buzzed in his pocket and emitted a _ping!_ , denoting that it was not, in fact, dead after all. Newt dropped Sonya’s hair entirely, whipping the device out and staring almost in disbelief at the screen. His breathing picked up significantly, dangerously nearing the point of hyperventilation as his fingers loosened their grip and threatened to drop the phone to the ground. He set it down on the table, placing his elbows on either side of it and physically held up his head, hunched over the screen.

“Newt…?” Sonya turned to face him, worry written on her face. “Are you okay…?!”

He didn’t hear her. He didn’t hear anything. In fact, his vision was growing blurry, welling up with raw emotion as he stared at the screen, which soon grew black due to inactivity.

**8:47**

**Saturday, February 03**

**MESSAGES**

**[From: Pigtailed little shit] https://news.national... **

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**Swipe to unlock →**

 

“Newt…” Sonya placed a hand on his shoulder, which made Newt visibly flinch. He stared at her with wild, deer-in-headlights eyes, quick and shallow breaths still ripping at his chest from the inside out. Wordlessly, Newt snatched the phone and ran out of the room, rounding the corner and pacing once he was alone in the hallway. Desperately, the blonde lit up the phone again and swiped immediately, his fingers aggressively jabbing in the passcode as the lock screen swept out of view and revealed the app he’d been in most recently. Thomas’s contact. He still had Thomas’s contact.

Thomas. T.

Without a second thought, Newt pressed the **CALL** button next to Thomas’s number, his heartrate equivalent to that of Minho’s after a track race. It rang three, unbearably long, droning rings, before the line grew silent. Newt’s chest might’ve imploded right then and there from anticipation.

“…. Hello…?” Thomas’s voice finally patched in very sleepily, clearly having just woken up by his phone ringing. Newt nearly collapsed right then and there, at the sound of the other’s voice, all the air leaving his lungs at once. “Mmmmmmnnnn….” Thomas groaned groggily, probably stretching. “Who is this?” He asked, not recognizing the number since Newt had never texted him.

Newt’s heavy breaths hit the receiver, hoping and praying his hypothesis was right. It had to be. Right?

_Please,_ Newt thought to himself, because he’d enjoyed his time with Tommy so so very much. Now that there was even the possibility that they were soulmates, Newt wanted it to be true more than anything in the world. He’d never connected with someone so effortlessly; he’d be heartbroken if it weren’t true, now. Not even bothering to answer his question, Newt jumped to respond in a heartbeat. “What’s your last name?”

“… Who _is_ this?” Thomas asked again stubbornly, and Newt had to place a hand on the wall to keep himself standing.

“ _What is your last name?_ ” He pressed on, desperately.

The brunet was quiet for a moment, before speaking softly, in what sounded like awe. “…Newt?” They both breathed out, Thomas waking up real quick as he began to puzzle out what this was all about. “No-, I mean-, that’s not my last name, you’re Newt, I’m Thomas,” he babbled in a rushed manner, something he had a tendency to do when he was anxious. “I’m Thomas! Thomas Murphy.”

Newt felt one of the tears that had been brimming in his ducts spill over and roll down his cheek, the blonde squeezing his eyes shut as he bore all his weight on the wall he’d been leaning on. It was like his legs gave out on him. And he was smiling, oh how he was smiling, giving a small shake of the head in disbelief even though nobody could see. “It’s you,” he whispered, unable to muster up anything louder than that past the lump in his throat. “After all this fucking time, it’s been you.”

He sniffled loudly, and heard it reciprocated on the other end of the line, meaning Thomas was crying, too. “Ross,” Newt said bluntly, wiping his eyes with his free hand. “My last name. It’s Ross.”

Thomas gasped, even though he’d already made the connection to be true. Hearing Newt say it, hearing Newt Ross, his NR, say it… He couldn’t help but gasp. “It’s you,” he repeated his soulmate’s words, before laughing quietly. “It’s really you.”

“It’s really me,” Newt told him, the widest and toothiest grin on his lips. “I’m coming over. I’ll be there in 10.”

Newt hung up before Thomas could say anything that would make him cry _more,_ stumbling frantically to throw his coat on and wrap a scarf around his neck.

“Newt!” Sonya called out, grabbing the taller boy’s forearm and making him stop what he was doing, staring down at her. She scrunched her nose up in concern, some hair falling into her face thanks to the unfinished braid, wondering what had him running out the door all of a sudden. “…What’s going on?”

“Sonya,” Newt said, his lips curling up into a giddy smile. He put his hands on her shoulders, leaning down a bit so they were closer to eye level, just like he always used to when she was little. “I just found my soulmate.”

She let her mouth fall agape, but was overwhelmingly relieved that it was something happy that had him so frantic, and not the fact that something was horribly wrong. “Okay,” Sonya said softly, nodding her head up at her big brother as a prideful smile spread on her face. “Go get them, tiger.”

The lanky boy pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead, holding her close to him. He really was blessed to have her, and he made a mental note to remind her of that someday. Whispering a “thank you,” under his breath, Newt threw open the door, snagging his keys on the way as he practically dashed out. He almost slipped on the ice three times in the short distance from his front door to his car, but luckily made it there in one piece. The blonde boy sped through the backstreets the whole way to Thomas’s neighborhood, fortunate to not have been stopped and given a ticket throughout the entire commute. He slammed on the brakes once he pulled up to the familiar house he’d been less than 12 hours earlier, nearly sprinting up the other boy’s lawn and to his doorstep.

This was it. Newt raised his fist to the door and hesitated, taking a shaky breath to himself. Even though he’d already met Thomas, it was still nerve-wracking to stand there and know the person you’d spend the rest of your life with was on the other side of that door. Swallowing thickly, he rasped his knuckles against the chilled wood-- _knock, knock, kn-_

The door flung open in the middle of his third knock, Thomas immediately leaping out and throwing himself into Newt’s embrace. He buried his face in the blonde’s chest before either of them could say a word, arms weaseled between the taller boy’s jacket and shirt and secured tightly around his torso. Newt was taken aback by the attack, but was quick to envelop the smaller boy in his arms as well, tucking his chin down and nestling his nose into the other’s dark hair, which was a mess.

“It’s you,” Thomas breathed, and it was muffled by Newt’s shirt. The older boy chuckled, reverberating against the younger’s forehead that was pressed against his breastbone.

“It’s me,” Newt repeated, rubbing the other boy’s back softly. He felt his own shirt grow damp as Thomas started to shake a little, and that only made Newt hold him all that much tighter. “Don’t cry, love, please don’t cry.”

Thomas pulled back just enough to look up at Newt, his eyes sparkling with wetness. He rested one of his hands on Newt’s chest, right over the fabric he knew to be concealing two letters. Initials of Newt’s soulmate. _His_ initials. The brunet’s eyes searched every inch of the taller boy’s face, etching it into his memory forever. “It’s you,” he muttered again, which was enough to elicit a hearty laugh from his love.

“That’s all you can say, eh, Tommy?” Newt jested, shaking his head and making a few blonde strands fall in front of his face. Thomas reached up and brushed them away, making both of their nerves light up like fireworks.

“It’s you,” Thomas said again, this time clearly to mess with Newt, who rolled his eyes at the younger boy in amusement. “It’s you it’s you it’s you it’s you, it’s you?”

“Shut up,” the lanky boy whispered, before fluidly hooking his fingers around the curve of Thomas’s jaw and connecting their lips to ensure the brunet’s silence.

It was like their skin was ablaze. Like electricity coursed in their blood, zipping and jumping through their bodies, starting at their lips and emanating outwards all the way to their toes. Like life had been a jigsaw puzzle, and suddenly the last piece had been fitted into place.

Drawing back, Newt hovered close to Thomas’s face, his umber eyes locked to the other boy’s chocolate ones. They stayed silent like that for a few long seconds, frozen in place, trying to process the reality of it all.

“Its…” Thomas’s lips curled into a devious smile, never tearing the eye contact as he spoke softly. “…You.” He sniggered, clearly pleased with himself, which made Newt close his eyes and bite his lower lip in disbelief.

“You’re the worst,” the blonde whispered, leaning his forehead in and colliding their noses together.

“I know,” the younger boy whispered back, stepping on Newt’s toes and balancing on them. “And cold.”

Newt hoisted the slightly-shorter male up a few inches, waddling forward into the house and out of the February weather. “Well that’s because your dumb ass ran outside, in the dead of winter, in nothing but _a t-shirt and boxers_.” He chuckled at Thomas’s antics, letting the boy down to the ground and shutting the door to eradicate the draft.

“I couldn’t help it. I was too excited,” Thomas explained, a wide smile on his lips despite the stinging, probable frostbite on his feet.

The older boy stepped out of the hug finally, kicking off his own shoes and hanging his large coat by the door. “Shh,” he coaxed, allowing his fingertips to skim across Thomas’s before slipping them between each other, and he swore he could’ve exploded right then and there. “It was cute,” Newt promised, which elicited the most _adorable_ little squeak from Thomas.

“You’re prettier than any constellation in the whole sky,” Thomas mumbled sheepishly, and Newt almost started ugly-sobbing right then and there.

Only a single tear fell, and Thomas wiped it away with his thumb. “Fuck February 02 for keeping us apart for that long,” the blonde muttered under his breath.

 

And suddenly, their lips were colliding once more. It was a feeling Newt definitely wouldn’t mind getting used to.

“It’s you,” Thomas mumbled into the kiss, and Newt couldn’t help but smile.

 

“It’s me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the end! thank you guys so much for following along with me in this short but cute fic, I'm overwhelmed at the love it's gotten! stay tuned for the epilogue, coming soon! thank you all SO SO much again!!


	6. Epilogue

            “NEWT! THE CLUELESS WONDER IS HERE, _GET UP!!_ ”

            The blonde boy stretched, disobedient when it came to following his sister’s yelled directions. He heard footsteps thundering up the stairs and threw a pillow over his face, a groan seeping out from between his lips as they crossed into his room. A low chuckle reverberated around the room, and a voice that was much too low to be Sonya’s spoke teasingly: “Aww, did someone see his shadow and bury back into his bed for another 6 weeks?”

            Almost immediately, the pillow that had been covering Newt was being launched towards the voice in retaliation for the snide comment, the lanky boy narrowing his sleepy eyes in a glare as he muttered a quiet “shut up.”

            Thomas caught the pillow with the softest little “oof,” which was quickly accompanied by the shit-eating grin he always wore when teasing his boyfriend. He snickered, dropping the pillow on the floor- out of Newt’s reach to prevent giving him more ammo to attack Thomas with- before crossing over to the slightly-older boy. “Good morning, Mr. Sunshine. I thought sleeping beauty was supposed to be… Beautiful? Very Confused.”

He sat on the edge of Newt’s bed as he taunted, and as soon as he was within reach, two arms wrapped in a vice around his waist and slammed him down onto his back. Newt grabbed his other pillow and clambered on top of the brunet, wrestling him down and stuffing the pillow over his face, pretending to suffocate him. “Haha, you think you’re SO FUNNY, now you’re DEAD!”

Newt lifted the pillow with a grin, and Thomas stuck out his tongue, playing along. “Bleh. I’m dead. Dead noises.”

“The dead don’t talk, dumbass.” The blonde leaned back and off of Thomas more, a laugh bubbling from his lips at their antics. Time with his soulmate never failed to make him smile.

Thomas broke into a grin as well, rolling out from under Newt and slipping off the bed. He scrambled clumsily to his feet, brushing himself off as he put his hands on his hips in impatience. They spent all day, every Saturday together since they’d started dating, and today was no exception. In fact, today was of even more value than usual, and Thomas was grateful for that. “Get up, you lazy ass!!”

Newt raised an eyebrow, draping his legs over to dangle as he shook his head. “You know, adding ‘ass’ to the end of a sentence doesn’t change the fact you have the intimidation factor of a My Little Pony.”

The brunet huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and mumbling. “I like ponies.”

“Of course you do.” The taller boy stood and patted Thomas’s shoulder with a satisfied grin, crossing over to his dresser and lazily picking an outfit to wear. “What are we doing today?”

Thomas launched himself into a whole list, excitedly babbling about all the fun things he’d planned on them doing all day, and Newt just listened and smiled to himself. He loved when Thomas got super excited about things; it was cute. He pulled on his clothes over the boxers and tank top he’d slept in, haphazardly running a hand through his bedhead and ultimately choosing to throw a beanie over it anyways. The two then went downstairs and raided the Ross’s kitchen to make muffins from scratch for breakfast, being sure to throw chocolate chips in one half of the tin and blueberries in the other to accommodate both of the boys’ favorites. Being the fact that both of the teenagers are naturally disaster/chaotic gays, the muffins burned, but they ate them anyways. Next Thomas had insisted upon making snowmen out front, which ended in no less than an all-out snowball _war_ , with their sad little snow-triangle-with-a-face caught in the crossfire. When the whole lawn had been massacred from its once beautiful, untouched state, the two boys returned inside for another meal and to warm up a bit, cozying up on a couch and watching a movie together. Winter’s early nights had begun to creep in, as the sky had grown dark outside by dinnertime. Throughout the whole meal, Newt kept catching Thomas’s eyes wander out the window, trying to get a peek of the night sky. The blonde kicked him lightly, picking up his empty plate and standing. “C’mon, you big nerd.” He took Thomas’s plate as well, stacking it atop his own. “Let’s go look at them.”

Crossing out onto the front porch, both boys silently embraced the Déjà vu it brought them. This was exactly the place they’d sat and looked at the sky together a year ago, the first of many subsequent stargazing adventures.

After a few moments of silence, Thomas leaned over and whispered to his significant other, never tearing his eyes away from the speckles of light that dotted the dark sky. “Which one are you looking at?” He asked out of curiosity, tangling his fingers with Newt’s in hopes of maintaining warmth.

Without missing a beat, Newt smiled brightly, his own eyes also transfixed on one particular spot in the sky. His voice was so soft, Thomas wasn’t even sure he’d heard the boy right: “Ours.”

Breaking his gaze, the dark-haired boy turned to inspect Newt’s face for further context clues, but was only met with more questions than answers. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ll be right back.” Newt avoided the question, planting a chaste kiss on his soulmate’s cheek as he stood and hurried back inside, slamming the door shut behind him. Thomas was too stunned in confusion to move, and by the time he’d processed what had happened, Newt was already gone.

“His stupid bladder of a squirrel,” Thomas mumbled, his hand cold in the absence of another enveloping it. The blonde returned fairly quickly as he’d promised, having gone inside not to pee, but to retrieve something from his room.

“It’s been a year since I met you, Tommy,” the blonde began, situating himself flush against his boyfriend once more. “A year of you being a proper idiot, but a year I wouldn’t give up for anything else in the world.”

Only in a relationship like theirs could Thomas punch Newt in the arm and then immediately rest his head against the other’s shoulder lovingly. “A year of you _bullying_ me,” he huffed, which elicited a laugh from the taller boy.

“You love me,” he insisted, which Thomas was quick to confirm in a begrudging tone.

“I do.”

The brunet connected their lips for a moment, and it felt like all the fireworks from the first time they’d kissed all over again. Newt broke away once it had lingered for a moment, squeezing his love’s hand. “I have something for you,” he whispered, Thomas preoccupied with gently sweeping away the hair that had fallen into Newt’s face. The blonde pulled out what he’d gotten from inside, revealing it to the other boy.

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** INTERGALACTIC STAR DATABASE **

**CERTIFICATE OF REGISTRY**

**STAR #ISD0346673 WILL HEREBY BE KNOWN AS:**

­ _ _Uhh, is this Ms. Paige’s Class__

**WITHIN THE INTERGALACTIC STAR DATABASE.**

**SITUATED IN THE CONSTELLATION:**

**DRACO**

“I… hate you.” Thomas finally said, his mouth dropped in awe and bemusement at Newt buying _him_ , the astronomy nerd, a star, and naming it after his stupidest moment. “You’re SUCH a jerk,” he said, stifling laughter as he shoved at Newt’s shoulder.

“I’m _your_ jerk though!” The blonde snickered, clearly pleased with himself. Thomas scoffed, rolling his eyes, as Newt pulled him closer.

“Yeah, I’m the poor sap that’s stuck with you for the rest of our lives.” Newt pretend-pouted at this, and so Thomas caught his gaze and smiled. “Wouldn’t trade you for all the stars in the sky, though.”

Beaming, the older boy buried his face in the crook of Thomas’s neck, entrapping him in a bone-crushing hug. “This star is ours,” he whispered on a more serious note, his voice taking on a more heartfelt and sincere tone.

“You chose a star in Draco, I noticed.”

Looking up, Newt nodded, immediately getting lost in Thomas’s brown-with-gold-flecked eyes and falling in love with them all over again. “The first constellation you ever showed me, a year ago today.”

Thomas hummed with a smile, planting a small peck on Newt’s forehead. It wasn’t something he got to do often, considering he was two inches shorter, so now that he had the opportunity he definitely was going to take it. “Newt?”

            The blonde smiled, and it was contagious. “Yeah?”

            Everything, everything about them, couldn’t have been better. Nothing was perfect, but this… this was pretty damn close.

            Thomas’s fingers skimmed the other boy’s cheek softly, his voice hardly above a murmur. “Happy Groundhog Day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, I posted the epilogue! Thank you all so very much for the love you've shown this story, I really do appreciate it so so much! You're cooler than even Thomas's brightest constellations!
> 
> Much Love,  
> ShippingLikeAPackage


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